


Beautiful Day

by plasticineking



Series: death comes rushing on in [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticineking/pseuds/plasticineking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hello mother,” he spoke with his usual respectful manner, and she was struck again by how much he looked like his father. Suddenly, as if it were always that way, he stood before her a young boy, his hair more curled like his brothers, his cheeks a permanent pink glow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Day

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, it's time for someone to finally rest. Enjoy.

** Beautiful Day **

* * *

 

_One day like this would see me right…_

* * *

 

Eliza was tired. She had good days, when the memories and colours were so vivid that it almost knocked the breath out of her, and she had bad days… days when she would look into the face of her children and it would taking a heart breaking moment too long to place them, when visitors would ask of recent events and she could not place them. Memories slipping from her mind before they had chance to sit.

She was tired and her mind remained so busy, those moments when she was most lucid.

Slowly she let her eyes drift shut, allowing herself a moment of rest in the early afternoon, knowing all too well that it would ruin her sleep. Inflict complications when she would go to rest her head later on, but she could not resist.

There was a smell of grass and lavender in the air, a fresh breeze across her face, and for the first time in so long she felt a deep comfort envelope her bones, taking away a deep ache that she couldn’t remember _not_ having.

“Ma’” a faint voice called to her, from far away…but so close, tilting her head she tried to open her eyes but they remained closed, “Mama…”

She recognized the voice, then, and like a wild dream her eyes shot open, before blinking harshly at the bright sun light.

“Philip?” her voice felt strong, and steady and she turned to see her son…oh, her beloved son, as beautiful and young as she remembered, his hand in hers kneeling to the side of her. Terrified of moving, she took in some deep harsh breaths. She expected tears to come to her eyes, but instead she felt a peace.

“Hello, ma’,” his voice was as musical as she remembered, it brought such joy to hear it her hand moved of its own accord, resting on the side of his face. He was warm, and so, so… _alive_ , “Missed you.”

“Oh my son,” she could feel the tears, tears of joy, prick at her eyes, “you must know how much I’ve missed you.” There was a sound to her right, glass on top of a wooden surface, turning she saw her son William, a cold glass of – if she were lucky – cold lemonade, the drink momentarily distracting her, “William Stephen? How can you…”

“Hello mother,” he spoke with his usual respectful manner, and she was struck again by how much he looked like his father. Suddenly, as if it were always that way, he stood before her a young boy, his hair more curled like his brothers, his cheeks a permanent pink glow.

“William…” she whispered out, turning to Philip afraid that it were not possible for her to have such joy in her life, he remained where he kneeled for a moment before standing, taking the hand of his younger – now in image as well as age – brother and offering her his other.

“Come,” he wiggled his fingers and she placed her hand in his, the smoothness of her skin the pain eased from her bones and she stood easily from the chair… William ran off ahead, into the field before them, but Philip kept his hand in hers as they walked, deep into a deep green forest.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s so many people that you have to see,” she kept her eyes on William’s bouncing curls, clinging tightly on Philip’s hand she remained silent, all too aware of the sounds and smells around her.

It felt like barely seconds before she and her sons entered what seemed like a courtyard, people around talking and not paying her too much attention. She spotted, off the side, her grandmother, her grandfathers, her father and mother a young Peggy dancing around them, causing an infectious laughter, she let out a small giggle at the sight, and they looked over to her waving and beckoning her closer. Before she could move, Philip tugged at her hand.

“Someone else really wants to see you first,” he allowed a smile to tug his lips, and she returned it, moving through crowds of people… George Washington stopping her briefly to pick up her free hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it, thanking her… despite her confusion she nodded and smiled but remained silent. It felt so reminiscent of parties she would attend so many years ago. She stopped suddenly as John Laurens came up to her, so young, too young and she felt a slight dab of pain at this youthful grin, taking her hand he held it for a moment squeezing before letting her go.

There was a few passing faces that struck at Eliza, young children that she had helped in the orphanage… she believed she knew exactly where she was when she spotted her older sister, Angelica, looking for all the world happier than she can ever remember her being.

At the sight, Eliza dropped her son’s hand for the first time, lifting her dress up off the grass and ran the short distance to her, allowing little time for her to prepare before hugging her, spinning around in circles, laughter filling the air.

“Oh love, I have missed you so,” Angelica’s face was buried into her sister’s neck, her words muffled.

Nodding, Eliza brushed her fingers through her hair, an action very reminiscent to the way Angelica would often do to her as they grew up, “Not as much as I’ve missed you, I would bet.” Angelica pulled back from her sisters embrace, placing her hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye, debating.

“I would bet all the flowers in the world that I missed you more,” as the words exited her mouth Eliza found herself giggling. What a testament to their shared childhood, how often they spent their time with rivalries with no depth such as these – competitions on which one enjoyed reading more, which one loved the piano more, or their parents – giggling in the garden, their own private jokes.

“I would bet all the birds in all the trees in all the world that I missed you more,” Eliza countered, the grin she earned in reply was everything she had yearned for in her declining years. Angelica was going to reply before being cut off but a soft and emotion-filled voice from the side.

“I would bet all the sunsets that the world has had, all that it will have for the rest of eternity that nobody has missed you more than I,” Angelica rolled her eyes, but smiled softly at Eliza’s shocked expression. She didn’t turn to look, her eyes fluttered shut Angelica realised in probable disbelief.

“My sister,” managing to open her eyes she met Angelica’s, “I do believe he has missed you more than everyone, you should go to him.”

Taking in a shuddering breath, Eliza nodded pulling back from her sister she turned to where the voice, the oh so familiar and oh so _missed_ voice of her husband came from. He stood in all cream dress-clothes, his skin so full of colour, his hair dark and silken that she felt the air almost leaving her body at the sight.

“My angel,” she took a small amount of pleasure in the shakiness and emotion in his voice, knowing that he was no less affected by the situation than she was. He extended out his hand to her, turning out of her sister’s grasp, she took a step towards him, her hand shaking as she moved to gently touch her hand to his.

“Alexander…” she didn’t let her hand rest in his before she embraced him, struck by the familiarity of the feel...the smell of him, how could so much time pass and yet the feel that nothing has changed. She feels like a young woman again, newly in love.

Stepping backwards she found that they were alone, he was no longer in his cream clothes but in his uniform, the blue bright and new as it was the night they met. His eyes, _god_ those eyes… they looked so young, but held all the tenderness only possible for years of just _knowing_ someone wholly.

“I know I told you to take your time,” he began the softest of smiles on his face, his hands roaming over her face, down her arms and holding her hands again, “but to outlive me by fifty years?” There was teasing to his tone, but a little awe too and she found the urge to tell him, explain herself bubble up without control.

“You had so much you wanted to complete, Alexander,” she shook her head, “I tried my greatest to do them for you, the world deserves to know your name. I… I did not finish reading all your papers our John has been left with the task, he has the drive of his father-“

“I believe he has the drive nurtured by his _mother_ ,” Alexander interrupted.

“I am sure he will complete it, I only wish I could see it,” she smiled, and she felt so _youthful_ , so at ease.

Alexander laughed, and it sounded otherworldly – which Eliza assumed only that it _was_ , “I am sure you stayed on that mortal coil as much as you needed, had you stayed any longer I would have had to return to beg you to leave.”

Eliza wanted to laugh, but there was an unwanted feeling in her, a darkness, “I am afraid that I did not have enough time. My later years, facts got confusing… I have not seen our Angelica for three long years, William for…longer.”

“Eliza…”

“I could not allow the world to go on and forget you,” she finished, “it was unfair that everything kept moving and you were not at the centre any longer.”

“You… did more than I ever expected from you,” he stepped to her, cupping her face with both hands, “You did more for me in my death than I ever gave you cause for when I was alive.” He kissed her then, lips soft and warm and _gods,_ it was like the first kiss again, everything felt new and addictive. Breaking apart, she found the location had changed, they were in the last house they shared the greatest difference was the emptiness of it, no sound of their children just those two alone.

“How does time move in this place, Alexander?”

“Oh, so quickly and yet…not at all,” he holds her hand and walks through their house, it was static as though not touched since his death but it felt like every step they walked caused the house to shift, breaking through an invisible barrier that caused it to be more _real_ than any place either had experienced since entering this haven.

“Could you…could you see me? See us?”

“At times, all times…” they walked up the stairs slowly, still hands joined. Eliza marvelled at the smoothness of her skin, she had forgotten what age had touched was not always the way she was, “tell me, Eliza, of the orphanage…tell me of the children you helped, start with our own and then our surrogates?”

So she did. She had wondered throughout her later years if Alexander had lived would she have had any hand in establishing the orphanage? Would it have gone on without her, flourished or perished? Was she important to the cause or just lucky enough to be a part of its story? It wouldn’t be the first time _that_ had happened.

They were sitting on the side of their bed, watching a sunset that was impossible for where they were but no less beautiful for it, she returned the conversation from her accomplishments back to her children.

“Tell me… I saw young William when I first arrived, there with our beautiful Philip…does that mean-“

“Yes…” Alexander saved her from questioning it, “I believe you were kept from this information for your own health and sanity, you suffered great losses in your life when you were younger and in better health, our children knew that was no longer the case and wanted your final years to be free of pain.”

“He looks so much like you,” there was a wistful tone to her voice, remembering the days she would watch him grow up and look more and more like her lost husband, “I had wished so much that Angelica would be returned and able to live a normal life… she is healthy but she still speaks of you and Philip as if you were alive, I feel as though I failed her.”

“I assure you nobody thinks that way of you,” Alexander’s words were soft but he couldn’t say any more than that, deciding instead to turn and take her hands in his, smiling, “You accomplished so much, and you did so much for me…so much more than I could have ever thought of… your family and friends want to see you.” He looked almost as though he was being heralded, which considering how little Eliza understood about _what_ was happening that wasn’t an unlikely thing.

“I can’t wait to see them again… to hold dear Peggy, to dance with my sisters like I’m young again… to hold my boys,” she smiled and he returned it nodding.

“May I ask one small favour of you?” he shifted where he sat, licking his lips and smoothing her hair from her face.

“You may,” she sounded a little breathless, her own hands moving to hold him at his waist. He grinned before standing and parting from her. She couldn’t stop her shock from taking over her face, but he removed his coat, dropping it to the floor, quickly followed by his waistcoat.

“I would very much like to become reacquainted with my wife,” he grinned at her nod, before almost growling as he prowled towards her, delighting in the youthful giggle that burst from her lips as she was pushed backwards onto the bed, his lips on her neck.

\--

Eliza Holly had felt an unease from the moment she left her mother to go for an early afternoon walk. It wasn’t enough to cause her to stay, but enough that she took a shorter route. She often had mornings like this, where she would have an unshakable fear and be greeted with a woman with the mind and strength of someone twenty years her junior.

Her mother would always dismiss her, and her husband would always laugh at her woes.

“Mother, I’ve got you a glass of lemonade,” stepping out in the garden she marvelled at how quiet it was, the usual sounds of hummingbirds or rustling of the wind through trees was curiously absent. She walked to where her mother faced out into the small grassy area, sitting in her usual spot with the table next to her, “it is such a lovely day today, isn’t it?” Placing the glass down on the table, she walked around to face her mother and it took her only a moment to realise… Her hand moved to her own heart, surprised at the sudden pain there.

It wasn’t as though it was truly unexpected.

But it hurt nonetheless.

She took a few steps forward, touching a hand to her mother’s joined hands in her lap, surprised at how they were not yet cold. She knew she would soon have to allow the world into this, to take her mother away and put her to rest, but she allowed a selfish moment to be at peace with her.

“I will miss you,” her own voice was quiet, as if any louder would break the moment. Taking in her mother’s face, she wondered if she had some idea that it was her time? The soft smile on her lips made the younger Eliza believe that that may have just been the case.

**Author's Note:**

> I got really sad one day when I read that William died and Eliza never knew. That she lived the last few years of her life without knowing her son had died, because those kids didn't wanna cause her pain. Anyway, this is a pure piece of FLUFF. I'm sure you found that, just an excuse to reunite Eliza and Ham and have him just 'I said take your time, not take the piss! 50 years!???????' But in a lovely way. Mistakes are my own.


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